


Four Words, One Reply

by lovehugsandcandy



Category: Ride or Die (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 16:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18553873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovehugsandcandy/pseuds/lovehugsandcandy
Summary: Ellie graduates from Langston.





	Four Words, One Reply

Ellie dreaded the day that the letters stopped coming. The worst of it was the terror, deep in her soul, that she would never know. Would he stopped writing when he fell out of love? When he was sentenced to jail? Worse?

Her roommate thought it was romantic. “No one writes letters anymore, Ellie. It’s sweet.” Little did she know that it was likely a necessity, a way to avoid being tracked. Electronic communication could be dangerous and she was certain she didn’t even have Colt’s current phone number. All she had were the letters.

They came unexpectedly, with no rhythm. Some months, she would get a letter a week, with varying return addresses, some with stamped return envelopes, to varying cities, so she could write back if she wanted. She always did.

Some months, there were no letters. The worst was four months, spanning the summer and start of fall semester of junior year. Ellie was in a panic, barely able to sleep until, finally, a thin envelope in her mailbox, no details, no explanation, only an “I love you, Ellie.” She cried, sobs in the middle of the campus center, oblivious to the stares around her.

Sometimes they came with money, always cash. Never a ton, but enough to make her worried about what he was doing. Always earmarked for something, $400 for new school books, $100 for her “first legal drink at Flanagan’s and a cab back home.” At first, she sent it back; she didn’t want his money (she wanted  _him_ ) and felt bad taking it. He would return it to her, quickly, with a gentle admonishment that it was his way of feeling connected, a way of being there with her in spirit. She took it more often than not now but, when the nights were long and the nightmares were strong and the terror wouldn’t subside, she would send his money back, knowing it was the fastest way to get letter in return, to know that he was still ok. And, though it made her uneasy, she did let him buy her first legal drink.

She knew, with their last conversation in LA, that she was signing herself up for a bit of loneliness. He told her that he needed time, he couldn’t be in LA, he needed to get away. She understood, she got it. She knew the memories this place had for him. She asked him to come with her; wasn’t Boston far enough away? She still remembered his sad eyes, the last kiss. He told her he would wait for her, but he didn’t expect anything, said he didn’t know when he would see her next, but he would, one day. She didn’t know if he was trying to outrun his grief or hide from it, but she prayed he succeeded.

And now this, a month before her graduation, a cryptic note, barely a letter, on the back of a photograph. She could recognize the image, the Bean (he was in Chicago?) and pored over the picture, looking for a hint of him. She couldn’t find Colt, no smirk, no leather jacket but, in the corner of the reflecting mirror, warped in the curve of the monument, she finally spied what he wanted her to see. A sleek bright pink European import, looking amazingly like her car back in LA. And on the back, four words and a return envelope, addressed to PO Box in Pittsburgh. She read those words, over and over and over again, in class, in bed, memorizing Colt’s scrawl as if it would bring him back to her, in the flesh. Finally, three days later, she printed a picture of herself, a selfie in front of the magnolias blooming by the library, her fiercest look on her face, graduation cap in her hand. She wrote one word, on the back, and sent it, kissing the envelope as if it would make it travel faster.

In the meantime, she finished classes, hung out with friends, and went on with her life, trying to live enough for both of them.

~~~~~

It was ungodly hot for Boston in May and Detective Wheeler shifted in the shitty folding chairs the university had rented for graduation. He was nothing but grateful to be here and so happy for his ambitious daughter, graduating Summa Cum Laude from her dream school. He was just so proud and had told her as much at breakfast this morning, with her and her roommate and some friends, all celebrating their achievements and simultaneously scared of what was ahead. He was just ecstatic that they all made it this far, intact and whole, willing to take nothing for granted.

He remembered being terrified, after the months senior year when she was lost to him, terrified she was gone, terrified he had failed her, his wife, himself. He still remembered the relief when he opened the door that morning and she was there, two kids in tow, asking for help from a horror they never should have been involved in. Who would have thought the crew he was supposed to be hunting was more Lost Boys than Mafia? And who would have thought they would have been influential in bringing down an actual, organized crime unit in the LAPD?

After, his prodigal daughter had returned, and then gone to school, and things had generally returned to normal. She studied hard, came back for breaks, and confided in him, every detail of college. The all-night studying sessions, the boys who seemingly had their eye on her, even a few snippets about the parties she attended. There was only one thing she didn’t share with him, one thing too personal, too close for her to divulge to her old man. He saw the letters, sometimes, and ached to read them, but he trusted her. Giving her this space was important to him, a way of redeeming himself for watching too closely for years. She had earned her freedom.

And that freedom brought him here, to graduation, from one of the best universities on the East Coast, sitting in the heat and fiddling with a program. Riya would have come but her graduation was the same day so he was here, alone, bringing best wishes from LA.

Well, almost alone. A shadow fell over him, a soft clearing of a throat and, when he looked up, he dropped the leaflet, turning back to watch it sway to the ground.

“Is this seat taken?”

He stood, eye to eye with the boy, no, the man, next to him. He hadn’t seen him in four years and stared; his shoulders had broadened, visible in the short-sleeved dress shirt, eyes still intense, jawline and cheekbones seemingly sharper with age. The last time he had seen Colt Kaneko, he was broken, mourning a father he barely knew and a life he never would live. Now, he seemed more at ease, as if time didn’t erase all wounds, but made them easier to deal with. He still looked like he would never truly relax but that he was, for now, at peace.

Colt extended his hand and he shook it, then gestured to the chair. “Sit down.” He picked up the brochure, watching Colt settle in, putting a bouquet of flowers under his chair. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

A small smile. “Yeah, Ellie doesn’t know either. I don’t know if she’s going to hit me or hug me.”

Wheeler grinned; he knew his daughter better than that. “My money’s on neither.”

~~~~~~

Ellie couldn’t stop laughing and smiling and celebrating. She felt alive. After the ceremony, she desperately ripped off her gown, sweltering in the heat. She couldn’t stop handing out hugs, to professors, friends, her roommate. The crowd was crushing, families and loved ones, all fighting to get to the graduates; she couldn’t find her dad. She knew he was here, somewhere, but the mass of people made it hard to see six feet in front of her.

Finally, it was like the crowds parted and there he was. She dashed, sprinting towards him, laughing and wrapping him up in a hug. They were flying back to LA in a few days, once things calmed down and she was packed, but she wanted to see him now, in the midst of one of the biggest celebrations of her life. She pulled back, looking at the joy in his face and laughed. 

“Love you dad!”

He kissed her cheek. “Congratulations. I am so proud of you.”

She went to smile at him again when she saw something, someone, over his shoulder and froze with a gasp. He dad smiled and stepped aside and there, alive and whole and in the flesh, Colt stood, clutching a bouquet and looking painfully out of place. She stared at him, time stopping, the crowd a dull roar around her as they stared at each other.

She took a step, then another, and was soon running, leaping into his arms, her lips finding his, the flowers falling as he clung to her, desperately. It was all she could do to hold on as he kissed her like he was drowning, four years of missing each other communicated through touch.

Finally, he pulled back, stars in his eyes as he looked at her. “I love you, Ellie.”

“Always.”


End file.
